


Heaven has no rage

by RoseMeister



Category: Once Upon a Time in Wonderland (TV)
Genre: F/F, Minor canon divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 03:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6687328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseMeister/pseuds/RoseMeister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alice's eyes burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven has no rage

**Author's Note:**

> Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turn'd  
> Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorned

Alice's eyes burn. They burn with a passion Anastasia can barely remember ever feeling. They seared into her skin, branding Anastasia so completely that she is sure it shows on her skin, that her gaze has left a tangible mark on her, so everyone who looks at Anastasia ever again will see it, and know, that Alice hates her with a passion greater than Heaven's rage.

The memory of her eyes still haunts her. Follows her, watching her every step, every movement, makes her want to scream, tear it's incorporeal presence away. It's a hate that makes her shudder, strong enough that Anastasia, even if she's the Red Queen, feels afraid, not of the sword pointed at her throat, but of the woman staring her down with eyes that burn like Hell's fury. 

In that moment, Anastasia knew she was inches from being buried in a forgotten grave, her throat torn out not by a sword stained by thorned memories but by the teeth of a woman who had nothing left in her heart but vengeance and a dying hope that turns bitter at the very sight of Anastasia.

She should be free of it now, as powerful as she normally is, miles and miles away from the girl who is made of both Heaven and Hell, but Anastasia can still feel the ghostly edge of Alice's teeth at her throat, and above all can't forget her eyes.

Alice's eyes, which burnt with both righteous and wicked anger, with nothing to bar her way to vengeance, no magic, no guards, and here Anastasia truly believes the unbelievable tales of her, Alice the unkillable, Alice the girl who could shatter bones in her grip, Alice, the warrior who could kill the Red Queen with breezy ease.

Anastasia could do nothing but watch as Alice, the hellhound with heaven's blessing, traded those eyes of the purest hatred for once that overflowed with an emotion that poured out of Alice's eyes and crawled inside Anastasia's head, tearing her eyelids as it forced Anastasia to watch, and never forget, the pity that flooded from her.

"I'm not like you." Alice says, her voice as harsh and brutal as the wind in a hurricane, but her words wouldn't hurt if it weren't for her eyes. Endless depths that swallow Anastasia with a single glance. Her tone is so, so close to simple contempt, and if only it had been. Anastasia could have taken that. She would have let that slide off her, leave Alice's emotions squirming helplessly in the dust, orphaned of attention. 

But pity. Oh God, pity. She can't take that. It makes her heart thrash in her chest, almost drags up a sense of guilt. It's too late for guilt isn't it? After everything Anastasia has done? Should be too late for pity too. 

But here Alice is, with eyes that brand, searing her pity into Anastasia's sin stained skin.

Alice's sword lowers, and she hands Anastasia back a life she is sure she no longer deserves. In some worlds, that kind of compassion would render Anastasia a servant, bound to Alice's cause, and maybe, in another life, Anastasia would like that. But not in this one. Not when she's little more than a puppet dancing to Jafar's whims. Not after all she's done on her own. Anastasia is bound to her own role now. And no flaming compassion can free her from that.

So of course she betrays Alice once they are safe, refuses to give her the information that the girl obviously craves, Alice was foolish to trust her in the first place. And of course she walks away from her with her head held high. Up here, Alice is nobody, and Anastasia is a Queen.

But maybe, once she's alone Anastasia saves Will. And maybe she left just before he could see that she'd saved him.

And maybe, just maybe, before she runs off she drops a note at his feet, scrawled messily so he won't recognise her hand. A foolish note, one born of secret guilt and hidden humanity.

'Jafar has Cyrus.' It said. 'Hurry.'

**Author's Note:**

> Anastasia is pretty much the only reason I watch this show.


End file.
